Page 34 of Duskbound (Esprithean Trilogy #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

The map of Draxon was clipped across my thigh as Tryggar flew, the parchment fluttering in the wind. Vexa had mentioned Blodfhal—a volcanic mountain range that cut through the center of Valkan's territory. According to the tome I'd found, it reached higher than any peak in Umbrathia. Easy to spot from the sky, I hoped.

I pulled out his compact mirror, flipping it open.

"Found anything new?" I asked my reflection.

His response came almost immediately. "A few more texts mention volcanic caves along the Eastern ridge. Something about the way the lava flows created natural tunnels. That's where I'd look."

I nodded, studying the range on my map. "Any idea about patrols in that area?"

"The terrain seems nearly impossible for horses to traverse, and I see no mention of roads that run through the mountains. Though I'd be more concerned about whatever's making Talon so nervous. He keeps pacing past my hiding spot, muttering about missing books."

"Maybe you should find a new spot."

"And miss all this excitement? Besides, someone has to make sure you don't get yourself killed looking for cave-dwelling death speakers."

"Your concern is touching."

"Just doing my part for the realm." His grin flickered in the mirror. "But Fia…" His voice turned serious. "Be careful. I still haven't found any mention of such creatures in the archives. And these texts are old. The landscape could have changed significantly since they were written."

"Will do." I snapped the mirror closed, tucking it safely away. What I knew about the Dread Sirens could be summed up in a few sentences: they could speak with the dead, they required a personal possession of the deceased, and they lived in the depths of a cave somewhere in Blodfhal. It wasn't much to go on, but it would have to be enough.

A shadow passed over me, massive and dark, making Tryggar's wings falter for just a moment. My heart stopped as Nihr's obsidian form dove through the clouds above, cutting through the air like a blade. Aether materialized from his spectre form as they descended, shadows rolling off him in waves. His golden eyes blazed with fury as Nihr banked hard, coming alongside us with enough force to make the air crack.

"You're absolutely insufferable," he snarled, his voice somehow carrying over the wind. The shadows around him were twisting violently.

"What are you doing here?" I had to shout over the wind. "Go back to them!"

"I'd rather we both went back." His jaw was set.

"I can't." The words came out harder than I meant them to. "But you can. They need you more than I do."

"There are six of them together, and you're out here alone," he growled. "That's not bravery—it's reckless stupidity. "

"I don't care."

Something dangerous flashed in his golden eyes. "You just became hope for these people. The one person who might actually save them. And now you're going to throw your life away on some fool's errand?"

"We can't keep doing what the Umbra have been doing," I shot back. "It's not working—it never has. We have to try something different. This is how I help ."

"And if Valkan finds you? If his men catch you in their territory?" His voice carried a dangerous edge. "The way he looks at you." Aether's eyes burned through me. "You have no idea the horrors he'd inflict."

“Aether, you’re not going to change my mind.” I shook off the images of Valkan.

“Then I am coming with you,” he insisted.

"I guess you'll have to keep up."

His jaw tightened. "This isn't a game, Fia."

"No, it's not. It's about finding another way—any other way—to save this realm without destroying mine." The words came out sharper than I intended. "Unless you'd prefer we just keep killing each other until there's no one left to fight?"

Silence fell between us, broken only by the steady beat of Vordr wings. Below, the landscape had begun to change. Where there had been only gray ash and death, patches of brown and green now dotted the earth. Actual living plants. I'd never seen it in Umbrathia before. The sight made my chest ache—this was what the realm should be.

Finally, Aether broke through the quiet, his voice shifting into something harder, more precise. The soldier I'd come to know replacing the man who'd argued with me moments ago. "We'll need to stay high—above the cloud cover. Valkan's men patrol the main roads, but they're less likely to spot us if we come from above." He gestured toward a dark smudge on the horizon. "The range will be visible soon. We find the highest peak first, then work our way down. The cave..." He hesitated, something flickering across his face. "The cave will make itself known."

"What does that mean?" I asked, but he had already urged Nihr higher into the clouds.

"Follow my lead," he called back. "And go into spectre form if we see anyone on the ground. It'll just appear as a Vordr flying a bit too far South."

"What are they like?" I called over the wind. "The Dread Sirens?"

Something dark passed across his eyes. "Difficult to deal with. They might demand a price."

"What kind of price?"

"I don't know." His jaw tightened. "It's different for everyone."

"Why did you go to them before?"

He was quiet for so long I thought he wouldn't answer. Finally, he said, "Because I was young and desperate." The words carried a weight that made me hesitate to ask more.

Just then, the clouds parted, revealing a peak that seemed to pierce the eternal twilight itself. Its dark stone stretched impossibly high, edges jagged and cruel against the gray sky.

Aether signaled for us to descend, guiding Nihr toward a wide shelf of volcanic rock that jutted out from the mountain face. The ledge was barely large enough for both Vordr to land, forcing them to touch down one at a time.

Tryggar's hooves struck stone with surprising grace, though the impact still sent loose rocks skittering over the edge. I slid from his back, my boots finding the uneven surface. The shelf dropped away sharply on three sides, leaving us surrounded by nothing but air and distant peaks.

"We need to move," Aether said, already studying the rough cliff face that stretched above us. "The cave is higher up, but we'll have to go on foot from here. "

I turned to Tryggar, who nudged me softly with his nose. "Stay out of sight, okay?" The beast pushed his head into my hands and I gave him a final scratch before turning to Aether.

He pointed to a narrow ledge about thirty feet above us. "There first. We'll have to move quickly—avoid plummeting to our deaths."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, but didn't allow myself to look down.

His form dissolved into shadow, rising like smoke before materializing on the ledge above. My heart thundered as I focused on my own transformation. The sensation was still new—that weightless feeling as my physical form became shadow. I pushed up through the air, forcing myself to move faster than natural. And just as I felt the shadows beginning to fray, I reformed on the ledge beside him.

"Good," he said, already scanning for our next landing point. "See that outcropping? The one that curves slightly to the left?"

I nodded, noting how the rock formed a small shelf about forty feet up. This jump would be longer—more dangerous if we didn't make it in time.

"Ready?" he asked, but he was already dissolving into shadow.

We continued like this, moving from point to point, each transformation draining more energy than the last. The higher we climbed, the harder it became to hold our spectre forms. One slip, one moment of lost concentration, and we'd fall hundreds of feet into the rocks below.

Finally, we reached a wider ledge that curved around the mountain face. The rough stone was littered with loose pebbles and debris that shifted under our boots. I pressed my back against the cliff wall, trying not to look at the dizzying drop beside us.

"There," Aether said, nodding toward an opening in the rock face about fifty feet ahead. The cave mouth was angular, its edges far too precise to be naturally formed .

"Last jump," he said, already gathering shadows around himself.

I followed his lead, pushing through the air as quickly as I could. My form began to waver just as I reached the cave entrance, and I stumbled slightly as I materialized on solid ground. Aether caught my arm, steadying me.

The entrance tunnel was pitch black, the darkness so complete it seemed to swallow the dim light from outside. A cold draft whispered from its depths, carrying a scent I couldn't quite place—something metallic.

For a moment, it reminded me of the Void.

I pulled out Vindskald's memoir, its leather binding worn smooth by time. "I guess this is it."

"Stay close," Aether said, his voice echoing slightly against stone walls. "The tunnels branch off in different directions."

We moved deeper, our boots scraping against rock despite attempts at stealth. The passage twisted left, then right, each turn taking us further from what little light remained. I pressed my hand against the wall, using it to guide me through the absolute darkness. My heart thundered in my chest—it was too fucking dark.

Then something strange began to happen. At first, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, creating shapes in the dark. But the shadows around us started to shift, to separate into distinct shades of black and gray. The walls emerged from the darkness, their surface rough and crystalline, glittering with tiny fragments of some mineral I didn't recognize. The tunnel ahead became clear—curving sharply about twenty feet ahead, the ceiling dropping lower at the bend.

I stopped, stunned. "I can see everything."

"Another gift from the Void," Aether said, turning to face me. Even in the darkness, his golden eyes seemed to glow.

"Is this how you see all the time?" I asked, taking in details I shouldn't have been able to make out—the jagged patterns in the rock, the way certain crystals caught non-existent light, the subtle movement of air disturbing loose pebbles.

"Among other things." That ghost of a smile played at his lips. "Darkness becomes an ally rather than an obstacle. Though I suspect you're already familiar with that concept."

Before I could respond, a burst of warm air slammed into us from somewhere ahead, carrying the acrid stench of rotten eggs. I pulled my shirt over my nose, but it did little to help. Through my enhanced vision, I could see the passage ahead narrowing into what looked like a crevice—barely wide enough for one person to squeeze through sideways.

"Sulfur," Aether said, moving toward the gap. "We're getting closer."

The tunnel walls pressed in from both sides until my shoulders brushed against rock with each step. The ceiling dropped lower, forcing us to duck our heads. In the darkness, I could make out every jagged edge, every protruding crystal that threatened to catch on our clothing. The stone itself seemed to pulse with a dull heat.

"We'll have to turn sideways," Aether called back. "Watch your footing—the ground slopes here."

I pressed myself against the right wall, turning so my chest faced the left. The rock was uncomfortably warm against my back, and sharp edges caught at my leathers as I edged forward. My boots scraped against loose pebbles, each one threatening to roll beneath my feet.

"This is cozy," I muttered, watching as Aether navigated the narrow space ahead. His shoulders barely fit through the gap, forcing him to angle his body awkwardly. Another blast of hot air rushed past, stronger this time, making my eyes water. "Please tell me it opens up soon. "

"Actually..." He stopped suddenly, and I nearly slammed into his back. Through the darkness, I could see his posture tighten. "Damn."

"What?" My heart skipped. "What is it?"

"The passage splits here." He gestured to where the crevice forked into two equally narrow paths. "And it gets narrower. Much narrower."

Heat seemed to pulse through the air, and the leathers suddenly felt suffocating.

"You should remove some of those layers," Aether said, as if reading my thoughts. "It's only going to get hotter."

"I'm fine." Even as I said it, I felt the beads of sweat forming across my forehead.

"Suit yourself." Fabric rustled in the darkness ahead. "But I'm not carrying you if you pass out."

"What are you—" I started, then stopped as I realized what he was doing. "Are you taking your shirt off?"

"Would you prefer I collapse instead?" The smirk in his voice was unmistakable as he pulled the leather uniform over his head. With my newfound vision, I could see every detail with frustrating clarity—the way his muscles moved beneath his skin, how the void burns traced down his frame. He tucked the shirt into his belt, completely unbothered by my presence.

"Suit yourself ," I muttered, forcing my gaze to the tunnel ahead. Though my eyes kept betraying me, drawn back to the shadows that danced across his shoulders.

"Your pride is going to get you killed one of these days." He turned back to examining the split in the passage. I noticed how the heat had caused a sheen of sweat to form across his back.

I was about to respond when another blast of hot air hit us—but this time, something was different. The heat came with a deep rumble that vibrated through the stone around us. The crystals in the walls seemed to shiver .

"Aether—"

"I hear it." His voice turned sharp. "We need to move. Now."

"Which way?"

The rumble grew stronger, and loose pebbles began to rain down from above. The heat was becoming unbearable, pressing against us like an iron.

"Left," he said, already moving. "Stay close to me."

I followed, pressing myself against the wall as the passage narrowed even further. The rock was hot enough now to feel through my leathers, and I tried not to think about what that meant. Ahead, Aether's bare shoulders barely fit through the gap, the muscles in his back tensing as he navigated the tight space.

The rumbling intensified, and suddenly steam burst from somewhere above us with a deafening hiss. The hot vapor filled the passage instantly.

"Aether!" I called out, but the steam was too thick—I couldn't see him anymore. The hissing grew louder, and more bursts of scalding vapor shot from cracks in the walls. "Aether!"

It burned my throat as I tried to call out again, my voice lost. I pressed myself flat against the wall, the heat of it searing my leathers, but it was better than the scalding clouds billowing through the center of the passage.

Fuck. I was going to die in this Esprithe-forsaken cave.

"Fia!" Aether's voice came from somewhere ahead. "Don't move!"

"Wasn't planning on it," I said, though my heart still raced.

The steam shifted, creating gaps in the white mist. Through them, I caught glimpses of the passage ahead—how it curved sharply before disappearing into darkness.

"There's a chamber," Aether called out. "Follow my voice but stay against the wall."

I edged forward, keeping my shoulder pressed to the burning stone. The passage was somehow even narrower here. My chest scraped against one wall while my back pressed against the other as sweat dripped into my eyes.

"Still so certain about keeping those leathers on?" His voice was closer now, that familiar dry tone somehow reassuring.

"Shut up and tell me where you are."

A shape emerged from the steam—Aether's outstretched hand. I grabbed it without thinking, and he pulled me through the vapor into a small chamber where the air was clearer. I nearly collided with his chest, halting myself at the last moment.

"See? That wasn't so difficult." But there was tension in his jaw that hadn't been there before.

"Speak for yourself," I said, trying to ignore how the steam had plastered his hair to his forehead—how droplets of water traced down his chest. "Some of us don't enjoy crawling through volcanic death traps."

Another rumble shook the chamber, deeper than before.

"We need to keep moving." Aether's eyes fixed on something above. Following his gaze, I saw what looked like a narrow fissure cutting upward through the rock face. "That's our way forward."

"Up?" I moved closer to the wall, taking in the near-vertical climb. "You can't be serious."

"Unless you'd prefer to go back through the steam. I'll remind you that this was quite literally your idea." He was already testing handholds, his bare shoulders tensing as he pulled himself up slightly. "I'll go first. Watch where I place my hands."

"How reassuring," I muttered, but I found myself studying his movements as he began to climb. The rock face was slick with moisture, and several times his grip slipped before finding purchase. I could see every flex and strain of muscle, the way his jaw clenched when a handhold crumbled slightly. His back glistened with remnants of steam and sweat.

"There's a ledge about fifteen feet up," he called down. "The path continues from there." His voice echoed strangely in the vertical space.

I reached for the first handhold, testing my weight against it. The rock was sharp enough to cut, but at least it wasn't burning hot anymore. As I pulled myself up, my boots scrambled against the wall, finally finding a ledge that jutted out.

"You know," I grunted, "we could just shift into our spectre forms and float up there."

"In here?" His voice carried exasperation. "The steam's warped the air currents. One wrong move and we could materialize inside the rock face."

My hand slipped slightly at the thought. "Inside the?—"

"Yes." Something dark crept into his tone. "These passages play tricks with depth. Better to do this the old-fashioned way."

"Wonderful." I pulled myself up another few feet, very aware now of how the moisture made the rocks shimmer. How the walls seemed to shift and ripple. "Any other horrifying possibilities I should know about?"

"Not at the moment."

"That's not actually reassuring." Another rumble shook loose debris that clattered past me into the darkness below. "At all."

The cavern trembled again, and I pressed myself closer to the wall, trying to become as flat as possible. Above me, Aether had paused his ascent, bracing himself.

"Almost there," he called down calmly. Of course he was calm right now. Just as we were inches from being swallowed up by some volcanic nightmare.

I glanced up as he pulled himself over the ledge, a relieved sigh escaping my lips. His form disappeared for a moment before his head peeked over, golden eyes finding mine in the darkness.

"Your turn." He reached down, arm extending toward me. "And try not to knock any more rocks loose. The sound carries. "

"Yes, because I'm doing that on purpose." I stretched upward, fingers straining for the next hold. The rumbling had made everything less stable, and what had looked like solid rock now crumbled beneath my touch.

Oh Esprithe.

My right foot slipped, sending a shower of pebbles into the depths. For one terrible moment, my entire weight hung from my left hand, fingers sliding down the wet stone. I clawed at the structure with my other hand frantically, but there was nothing else to hold onto. Fuck. Panic seized my heart as my hold finally slipped.

Before I could even cry out, Aether's hand locked around my wrist.

"I've got you." His voice was steady, but his grip was almost painful.

Heart thundering, I let him pull me up the last few feet until I could crawl onto the ledge. We both sat there for a moment, catching our breath.

"Well," I managed finally, "that was fun."

"Your definition of fun needs work." But there was something almost like amusement in his tone.

The ledge opened into another tunnel, this one mercifully wider than the last. But as we moved forward, I noticed something changing in the air. The suffocating heat from below was giving way to something that made goosebumps rise on my arms.

"Temperature's dropping," Aether said, his bare shoulders tensing slightly. "We must be nearing one of the mountain's ice veins."

I was about to make a comment about him regretting the shirtless decision when the cold hit like a physical wall. My breath clouded in front of me, and the sweat that had soaked through my leathers suddenly felt like a snowstorm against my skin.

"Ice veins?" My teeth threatened to chatter. The tunnel ahead seemed to glitter—frost covered the walls .

"Underground rivers of ice," he explained, moving forward. "They run through the mountain like—" He stopped abruptly, causing me to nearly walk into him. "Well, that's unfortunate."

The passage ahead had narrowed again, but this time the walls were slick with ice. Crystals hung from the ceiling like jagged teeth.

"Of course," I muttered, wrapping my arms around myself. "Because this wasn't challenging enough already."

"You wanted to come here alone." His voice carried a hint of irritation, though I noticed he'd crossed his arms over his chest against the cold. "Since you were so determined to do this without help."

"You didn't exactly volunteer," I shot back through chattering teeth. "In fact, I distinctly remember you shutting down the entire idea."

His jaw clenched. "You could have at least waited. Made a proper plan."

"We don't have time for proper plans." Another violent shiver ran through me as we edged forward. The ice-slicked walls reflected our breath in the darkness.

"And you getting yourself killed would help how, exactly?"

"I can't just do nothing," I muttered, though the cold was making it harder to form the words. My soaked leathers felt like sheets of ice.

His eyes raked me over, taking in the gasps I was fighting against wholeheartedly. Even the heat of his eyes on me did nothing to fight the cold that clung to me in waves now.

"Can you continue?" he asked.

Another violent shiver wracked through me, and my legs nearly gave out. Aether caught my arm before I could stumble, his skin blazing hot against mine.

"You're freezing," he muttered, and before I could protest, he pulled me against him. The heat of his bare skin seared through me, and despite my pride screaming at me to pull away, my body betrayed me by pressing closer. My fingers found the ridges of his spine.

"What are you doing?" I managed through chattering teeth.

"Keeping you alive." The words vibrated through me where I was pressed against him. "Your leathers are soaked. In this temperature, that's deadly."

I wanted to argue, to maintain some dignity, but the warmth radiating from him melted any resistance. His arms tightened as another shiver coursed through me, and my breath stilled at the flex of muscle beneath my palms.

"Why are you so warm?" I asked, unable to help myself. Even in the freezing cave, he burned like he carried the sun inside him.

He was quiet for a long moment. "I don't know."

"Add it to the list of mysteries," I muttered, trying to ignore how perfectly I seemed to fit against him.

"Stop talking," he ordered, but there was no real bite to it. "Focus on getting warm."

Minutes stretched by as feeling slowly returned to my limbs. My world narrowed to the points where we connected—the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the occasional brush of his jaw against my hair, the burning heat of his skin seeping into mine.

"Better?" he asked finally, his voice low.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I should step away now. The worst of the cold had passed. But neither of us moved.

"We should keep going,” I said.

"In a minute." His arms tightened fractionally. "You're still shivering."

I wasn't, not anymore, but I didn't correct him.

A distant rumble shook the passage, reminding us where we were—what we were doing. The spell broke, and we stepped apart, though the ghost of his warmth lingered.

"The drop is just ahead," he said, his voice carefully neutral as he turned toward the ice-slicked tunnel. "Stay close to the wall. One wrong step and?—"

"I know," I cut him off, already moving forward. "No need to paint me a picture."

The tunnel continued its descent, each step more treacherous than the last as ice coated everything. The path curved sharply, and my heart leapt at what lay ahead.

The passage simply ended, opening into a vast cavern that stretched down into absolute darkness. Even with my enhanced vision, I couldn't see the bottom. The edge was ragged, like something had torn the mountain apart from the inside.

"Please tell me we're not going down there," I whispered, though I already knew the answer.

Where else should I expect beings called dread sirens to reside?

Aether crouched at the edge, studying something I couldn't see. "There's a path. Narrow, but it's there." He pointed to what looked like a thin ledge spiraling down into the abyss. "We follow it counter-clockwise. The sirens' chamber is about halfway down."

I edged closer, trying to gauge the drop. "How did you even find this place the first time?"

His jaw tightened. "I followed the whispers."

A chill that had nothing to do with the cold ran down my spine. "Whispers?"

"The sirens call to those who are desperate enough to hear them." He straightened, shadows twisting through his void burns. "Ready?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Aether took the lead, pressing close to the wall as he began the descent. I followed, my fingers finding whatever handholds they could in the ice-slicked stone.

"Don't look down," Aether called, though it was too late.

"Thanks for the advice," I shot back. The cold seemed to deepen again as we spiraled lower, until my breath crystallized in front of me.

That's when I heard it—a sound so faint I thought I'd imagined it. Like hisses carried on wind that shouldn't exist this deep underground. They grew louder as we descended, until they seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

“That sounds welcoming?—”

"I know." His voice was tight. "We're close."

The path curved again, and something glowed in the darkness ahead. A soft, phosphorescent light that seemed to pulse in rhythm with the sounds. As we drew closer, I could make out an opening in the wall—an arch carved from the stone itself.

Beyond it lay a chamber that defied explanation. The floor was black liquid that moved like silk in a breeze, though no wind stirred this deep.

Aether stopped at the chamber's entrance, his bare shoulders tense. "Last chance to turn back."

I stepped forward, the memoir clutched against my chest like a shield. "We didn't come all this way to?—"

The whispers cut off abruptly, replaced by silence so complete it felt like the Void once again.

"The Realm Crasher returns." The voice wasn't spoken aloud, but resonated directly in my mind, clear as crystal and hauntingly beautiful . "Twenty years since you last graced our depths."

Realm Crasher?

"Still searching, are we?" Another voice, equally mesmerizing but touched with cruel amusement. "Did you ever find what you sought?"

Aether's jaw tightened. "We're here for a summoning."

Laughter echoed through our minds—three distinct voices harmonizing in a way that made my skin crawl. The black liquid rippled again, more violently this time.

"And what makes you think we'd help you again?" the first voice purred. "After you left so... abruptly last time. "

"We have a personal possession," Aether said, his voice steady despite the tension I could see in his frame. "We seek to speak with Krayken Vindskald."

Something broke the surface of the pool—a pale, translucent form that seemed to hover between liquid and air. The creature was impossibly thin, almost skeletal, yet possessed an otherworldly beauty that made it difficult to look away. Its eyes were completely black, like holes cut into reality itself.

"Everything has a price," it spoke into our minds. "Feed us, Realm Crasher. Let us taste the Void again."

I stepped forward, but Aether's arm shot out, blocking my path. "I'll pay it."

The creature's mouth opened in a grotesque smile, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth. It let out a long, rattling inhale—the first physical sound we'd heard from it. Dark tendrils began to seep from Aether's void burns, drawn toward the creature's mouth like smoke caught in a draft.

The shadows flowed into the creature's mouth for what felt like an eternity. Finally, it pulled back with a satisfied hiss, sinking partially beneath the black surface.

"The price is paid," the voices sang in unison. "Present the item."

I held out the memoir with trembling fingers. The book lifted from my hands, floating over the pool where it hung suspended in the air. The black liquid began to move, forming patterns that seemed to writhe and twist. The phosphorescent glow pulsed brighter, then dimmer, then brighter again.

A new voice filled our minds—drastically different from the ethereal tones of the sirens.

“What do we have here?” a vibrant tone questioned.

"Krayken Vindskald?" I asked.

"The very same! Though I must say, this is quite different from my usual audiences. The ambiance leaves something to be desired, but I suppose we must work with what we have." A pause, then: "But what's this? Such fascinating coloring you have, my dear. In all my years of documenting the realm's oddities, I never encountered a Kalfar with hair like starlight."

"I'm not—" I started, but caught myself. "That's not why we're here."

"No? Pity. I do so love a good mystery. And you, my dear, are certainly that. Though I suppose you have your reasons for seeking me out in this rather dramatic fashion. Not that I'm complaining—it's quite thrilling, actually. Being summoned by such an intriguing pair."

"I read your memoir," I said, trying to steer him back on track. "But some pages were torn out—the part about siphons."

"Ah, but surely we can spare a moment for proper introductions? The art of conversation is sacred, after all. And I find myself burning with curiosity about how someone so... unique... came to be asking about such matters."

"The realm is dying," I said, hoping the gravity of our situation might curb his curiosity. "Essence is being drained from our lands. Cities have been abandoned. Even the Kalfar's tethers are weakening."

"Dying?" All theatricality dropped from his voice. "Truly? Even Croyg? Those gardens were something to behold in their day..."

"Gone," I confirmed. "Everything's gone. Which is why we need to know what you saw that day by the river. What you wrote about in those missing pages."

A heavy silence filled our minds. When Krayken spoke again, his voice had lost its playful edge.

"I see. Though I must warn you—you're asking about dangerous business."

"We don't care about the danger," I said. "Please, just tell us what you know about siphons. How do we find such an item? Or how do we create one?"

Krayken's laugh echoed through our minds, but it wasn't cruel like the sirens—it was almost sad. "You have it all wrong. A siphon isn't something you find or create. A siphon is no item, no magical artifact. A siphon, my dear girl, is a person."

The words hit me like a physical blow. "What?"

"Like a tether?" Aether asked, tension evident in his voice.

"Precisely! Though far more rare, and far more... problematic."

"But that sounds like the ultimate power," I breathed.

"Exactly why it's the ultimate curse. Those who pull from the land itself, from their fellow Kalfar—well, I'm sure you're both familiar with how the Umbrathians feel about the corruption of essence."

Aether and I exchanged glances, the weight of his words settling between us.

"A siphon is an abomination," Krayken continued, his voice growing darker. "The one I saw by the river that day was swiftly killed once more realized what she was doing."

"Could a siphon drain the essence from an entire realm?" Aether asked.

"I never witnessed such a thing myself, though the theoretical implications are rather thrilling. Of course, the strain on the siphon would be..." He paused. "Well, astronomical, I'd imagine. Like trying to drink the ocean through a reed."

"But it's possible?" I pressed.

"My dear, in my experience, most things can be achieved. This, however…" Krayken paused for a few seconds. "I suppose if one could do it incrementally, store it over time, such a thing might be achievable."

The black liquid rippled violently, and one of the sirens emerged further from the surface. Its black eyes fixed on me.

"Time grows short," the siren's voice cut through our minds like ice. "The price only buys so many words."

"Wait," I said quickly. "Just tell us one more thing. How would one identify a siphon?"

Krayken's laugh echoed through our minds one final time. "Oh, you might never know. I’m sure one born of today would make sure to keep such a thing veiled in secrecy. But there could be clues—they are, after all, beings of theft, feeling the pull of essence around them, always fighting the urge to reach out and take ? —"

His voice cut off abruptly as the black liquid stilled. The phosphorescent glow dimmed, leaving us in near darkness.

"The dead have spoken enough," the sirens sang in unison. "Leave now, Realm Crasher. And take your fair-haired friend with you."